


Fresh flowers for sale; 1 mile

by Moragh33 (Moraghh33)



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moraghh33/pseuds/Moragh33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another alternative way that FF VII could have started, more particularly, how Aerith and Tifa could have met. And yes, expect yuri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh flowers for sale; 1 mile

**Fresh flowers for sale; 1 mile.**

Tifa smiled grimly to herself as she managed to slip the cuffs, being careful to keep her newfound freedom concealed from her poor unfortunate singular guard. He was sat at the other end of the bench, looking about as happy as she was to be stuck in the back of a lorry as it bumped and jolted across the desert. _Transport detail must suck._ She couldn’t bring herself to care for him too much though; he was working for Shinra after all.

“I need to pee,” she said, sighing extra huffily as he scowled at her. “You can either help me out here or you can sit in this lorry for another six hours with the stench of my piss around your shoes. Your choice.”

The lorry was fitted with a small toilet, if one could call a sort of toilet-shaped bottomless hole a toilet. Prisoners with hands tied behind their backs should technically have difficulty flying solo though so a request for assistance shouldn’t be too suspicious.

 _There’s a first time for everything_ , Tifa couldn’t help smirking to herself as she realised she had effectively just invited a man to help her out of her pants.

His scowl deepened but he stood, swinging his rifle around to hang on his shoulder so he had both hands free as he approached the apparently handcuffed ‘terrorist’ and asked her to stand.

 _Gotcha_.

She made quick work of her unsuspecting guard and it wasn’t long before he was unconscious and handcuffed to the prisoners’ end of the bench, leaving Tifa in peace to steal his canteen of water and try to figure out how to break out of the storage container without the lorry driver noticing and stopping. Too much to ask? _Possibly..._

There seemed to be lots of levers and switches, but not much to tell her what they achieved. That was the problem with all this potentially ancient, potentially high tech Shinra gear: everything was so vague. ‘For use in emergencies’, for example; _does that mean it’ll open the hatch or does it mean it’ll send a satellite signal to Shinra and they’ll send a team to come and sort out our emergency?_

But she couldn’t wait around forever; she’d given him a pretty hefty clout but eventually the guard would wake up and then he’d start yelling and then she’d be in trouble.

_Screw it._

She pulled the emergency lever, holding her breath and praying harder than she had in years. There was a clunking sound but then the shutter door began to slowly rise and Tifa allowed herself to breathe again. As it rose, a dusty view of endless deserted road began to come into view and the fighter hesitated, wondering if she was throwing herself from the frying pan into the fire.

_Too late now, Tif; you gotta go._

With one last glance backwards she jumped out the back of the lorry, rolling as she landed and looking for cover. The last thing she wanted was to be seen in the lorry’s rear view mirrors as it trundled down the long straight road. There was a large temporary road sign just a stone’s throw away and she made a dash for it, settling down behind it and listening carefully for any interruptions in the steady drone of the lorry’s engine.

 _Made it,_ she grinned in somewhat ecstatic amazement as she realised the lorry wasn’t stopping. _I’m free._

_Free somewhere in the Midgar Desert with no food and only a tiny stolen canteen of water but, you know, free._

She sat there for a few minutes, sipping at her water and taking in her new reality, giving the lorry plenty of time to get far, far away. She looked around, firmly deciding to think positively as the long expanse of empty road stretched out ahead and behind her. She felt something tickling her arm and was slightly surprised to discover that it was, in fact, bleeding reasonably profusely. _Must have landed wrong; you’re out of shape, Tifa. What would Zangan say?_ She shook her head at herself, unable not to grin as she imagined her old sensei’s scolding reprimand. That seemed a very long time ago now.

She scanned the farther horizons to see if there was any sign of human activity but it was pretty hard to tell; the bright, hot sun just made everything in the desert kind of haze and blur together.

After a fruitless and frustrating scan of the far distance, the fighter nearly did a double take when she saw what was on the sign she had just been leaning against.

‘Fresh flowers for sale; 1 mile.’

_Who in their right mind would be selling flowers out here? How and why is that a profitable business?!_

Much as incredulity reigned in Tifa’s mind in that moment, it did light a spark of genuine hope. If this insane florist did actually exist and the sign was not some peculiar prank, that meant there was a fairly high possibility that another human being existed a mere mile away. _I may be out of shape, but I can still walk a mile._

She waited another few minutes to be absolutely sure that the lorry was far enough away that she would be invisible to its mirrors in the desert’s haze but then she began her little journey, trudging north down the road towards this almost mythical flower stand. As she walked, she became more and more convinced that you would have to be at least half mad to be out here in this heat and dust and arid dry air selling flowers. It got to the point where she began to wonder if the sign had even existed in the first place or if she’d hit her head as she landed too and had simply hallucinated it. But then she saw another one:

‘Fresh flowers for sale; 0.5 miles.’

She grinned, excited, nervous curiosity beginning to grow as she walked on, holding the improvised bandage she’d made for her arm from a strip of material off the bottom of her shirt tight and hoping it wasn’t going to get too infected.

‘Fresh flowers for sale; 500m.’

She began to peer hard into the haze, wondering if that little blob further down the road was a flower stand or a figment of her imagination. It turned out to be another sign:

‘Fresh flowers for sale; 250m.’

But after this one she was sure she could make out two blobs. Ish. _Yep, that’s another sign and_ that _is a flower stand. What are the chances?_

As Tifa made it past the 100m sign she began to make out what was definitely a flower stand, and possibly even the movement of a person. She thanked the fates and whoever else would listen and prayed that this person would not turn out to be some Shinra devotee... that would be awkward...

 _Well... that’s certainly not a bad view..._ Tifa couldn’t help thinking to herself as she got close enough to see the person, in particular the fact that this person was a lithe but shapely woman with rich red-brown hair which swung low as she bent over facing away from Tifa, highlighting certain...attributes... as her faded pink dress clung snugly to her. _Keep it in your pants, Lockhart; it’s been a while, but still._ Solitary confinement didn’t give much opportunity for socialising of any kind.

“Uh, hello? Excuse me?” she called out as she approached, not wanting to startle the woman who could well be her heaven-sent lifeline out of the desert. The woman stood up, spinning around in obvious surprise, mouth open and eyes wide. _Wow._ Tifa blinked a few times as she took in the beautiful face and figure of her possible knight in shining armour. _Wow_.... _Get it together!!_

“Oh! Hello!”

_Even her voice is cute- Focus!_

“Hi,” the fighter brought out her best winning smile and tried not to let her knees weaken too much as the florist smiled back. “I, uh, I seem to have found myself in a bit of a tight spot here. I don’t suppose you fancy rescuing a complete stranger, do you?”

“Oh goodness; that’s blood running down your arm, isn’t it?” the flower girl asked, her face scrunching up in sweet concern.

“Um-”

“Come here,” she turned, not waiting for an answer, and led the way over to the little van parked behind the flower stall. “Sit,” she ordered and Tifa smirked but obeyed, planting herself on the little stool that the girl directed her to before she went rummaging through the back of the van. The fighter found herself on the point of craning her neck around to get a better view of her rescuer as she rummaged, but caught herself just in time before the brunette found what she was looking for and came back with a first aid kit and, bizarrely enough, a long staff.

“Thank you so much for this,” Tifa said as the florist came to crouch before her and opened up the first aid box; _up with the charm offensive_. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here; my own personal angel sent from heaven-”

“Steady on, honey,” the florist interrupted with a chuckle. “You don’t know how painful this next bit is going to be. You might not be calling me your angel for too long.”

“I’m sure I’ll cope,” the fighter rejoined, slightly surprised but very much enjoying the fact that this flower girl was bantering back at her and she grinned as the brunette met her eye for a brief moment. _Those are really green eyes. Like really green. They’re gorgeous-_

 _Ow_. Tifa managed not to make a noise but it sure stung like hell as the flower girl peeled back the makeshift bandage she’d wrapped around her arm. It was no small consolation that the florist had a brilliantly soft touch though, especially after three months of solitary; Tifa had to concentrate just as hard on not reacting to the shivering pleasure of the beautiful brunette’s fingers wandering lightly across her skin as she did on not wincing as the bandage pulled stickily at her wound.

“Oh sweetie,” the florist murmured, almost tutting to herself before she glanced up at Tifa again. “Do you mind me asking what happened?” Her voice was gentle and genuinely concerned and Tifa found herself wondering how this woman was able to so quickly show such compassion to a complete stranger, to make her feel genuinely cared for.

“I, uh, I had a bit of a fall and didn’t land very well I suppose.” _So much for the charm offensive, Tif; what happened to your game? Three months in solitary is a lot but still-_

“A fall?” the flower girl asked with a spectacularly sceptical eyebrow raise. “What did you fall from? This desert isn’t exactly known for its rock formations and high places.”

“Ha! You’re right there,” Tifa couldn’t help but laugh, again surprised in a very good way at the riposte, the evidence of a sharp mind.

“Sorry hon, but this bit’s gonna hurt.” Those incredible green eyes darted apologetically up to meet Tifa’s again and that was almost distraction enough to ward off the pain as the flower girl administered the first dabs of antiseptic.

“Again,” Tifa said, gritting her teeth a little but grinning as the brunette looked up again, “you’re not wrong.” She was intensely pleased to see an answering grin on the florist’s face and, she had to admit, warmed by the way it quickly fell into concern again as she winced.

“I am sorry; really,” the flower girl said as she cleaned the wound.

“Hey it’s ok,” Tifa reassured her; “it’s way better than the alternative.” She knew the florist would interpret that as ‘better than infection, gangrene, loss of limb, etc’ but, whilst that was true, Tifa couldn’t help feeling a wash of relief that she was no longer headed for the apparently incredibly painful gas chambers of Junon. She would take the stinging application of antiseptic by a beautiful girl any day.

“Why don’t you tell me what actually happened,” the flower girl suggested as Tifa winced with a sharp breath. “It might take your mind off it.”

“Uh-”

“It wouldn’t, perchance, have anything to do with that Shinra prison transport that went past a little while back with an open rear hatch and a handcuffed, unconscious guard in the back?”

“Uh-” Tifa didn’t know whether to be more worried that her rescuer knew she was a possibly dangerous, escaped Shinra prisoner, or more turned on by the amused but demanding look she was being sent by this apparently very sharp flower girl.

“Oh sweetie, it’s ok,” the brunette said with a beautiful, tinkling little laugh. “Let’s just say I’m not exactly good friends with Shinra either.”

“Well thank god,” Tifa laughed, more relieved than she’d like to admit. “It could’ve gotten a little awkward there if you were.”

“Indeed,” the flower girl grinned up at her and sat back with a satisfied sigh, the antiseptic round complete. “Hang on just a minute.” She put the first aid kit aside and picked up the staff, causing Tifa great confusion until she saw the sparkling gems slotted into one end of it.

“Is that-?”

“Materia? In particular, Restore materia?” the flower girl grinned as she looked back. “Yup; we are going to have you right as rain in no time. You shouldn’t even scar now that we’ve cleaned the wound.”

“Gosh,” Tifa murmured as she counted at least eight different gems of various colours, re-evaluating her rescuer yet again. “It’s not every day you come across someone with that much materia.”

“It’s not every day you come across someone who just escaped from a moving Shinra prison transport,” the flower girl retorted semi-defensively and again Tifa was left having to rein in her libido. _It’s always the strong, smart women that get you where it hurts, Tif._

“Touché,” she replied and couldn’t help but grin as the flower girl smirked at her.

“Just sit still a minute,” the brunette murmured as she took up her staff, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Tifa couldn’t help but take the opportunity to study her face, her delicately sculpted cheekbones and her beautiful, defined jaw line, a cute little nose and lovely long dark eye-lashes. And her hair was gorgeous too; most of it was tied up in a long braid but she had let a few strands loose to hang at the front, framing her face with soft locks of rich auburn.

So absorbed was Tifa in studying the abundant beauty before her that she almost jumped when suddenly a green mist coalesced in the air around her arm, wrapping around it and infusing into it. Cures were tricky, she knew because of the number of times she, Cloud and Barret had screwed up their attempts, but this one felt amazing. It was like refreshing rain and soothing heat at the same time, filling her with a sense of absolute well-being.

“Wow,” she breathed, unable to stop herself and she saw a twitch at the corner of the flower girl’s mouth as if she had the beginnings of a smile even as she kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the Cure. Tifa realised she’d hadn’t been breathing and had to inhale deeply, watching that smile widen beautifully.

“How do you feel?” the crouching flower girl asked as she opened her eyes and stared up into Tifa’s own, rendering the fighter speechless for a moment. “Better?” she asked, her smile widening that little wicked bit more, a knowing tint coming into her eyes.

“Beyond better,” the fighter murmured, doing her best but not very well to keep her voice light and not at all like she was buzzing with lust and awed gratitude. “That was amazing,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the beautiful green ones before her to examine her arm which was now not only pain free but scar free. She was semi-certain that there were actually fewer scars now than there had been before she’d jumped from the lorry. “Where on earth did you learn to make Cures like that?” _This is certainly no simple flower girl..._

“Ha, um, let’s just say I have a magical predisposition that runs in the family and leave it at that.”

“Ok,” Tifa agreed slowly, suppressing her dubious frown but unable to quash the massive rush of curiosity which then led to the realisation that she didn’t even know this amazing woman’s name. “Well fair enough, but I feel strange owing this much gratitude to someone I don’t even know the name of-?”

“Aerith,” the flower girl said with a soft smile as she stood up and held out a hand. “Aerith Gainsborough.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Tifa found herself murmuring as she stood and took the offered hand. _Uh, ok, charm it is._ “It suits you.” She grinned as Aerith’s smile widened and she half rolled her eyes as they shook hands. “I’m Tifa Lockhart.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tifa Lockhart,” the flower girl replied, meeting Tifa’s gaze with a genuine smile for a moment before she squeezed her hand slightly and let go, gathering her first aid kit and her staff and turning back to the van. “Do you fancy some green tea? You’ve got to keep hydrated out here-?”

“That would be lovely,” the fighter replied and realised she had no idea where this was going, but was quite happy to drink tea and find out.

“Great,” the flower girl replied as she started rummaging through the back of the van again. “Go and take your stool out front to the parasol – mine’s out there and we can sit in the shade for a bit.”

“Ok,” the fighter agreed and meekly did as she was bid, smirking at herself a little bit. _How quaint, to be sat under a parasol drinking tea....admittedly in the desert, but still._ She looked around, taking in the neatly arranged flowers of surprisingly wide variety, the tiny little locked safe and the fat, well-thumbed book on the other stool. She leaned over to see the title and realised with a start that it wasn’t just written in a language she didn’t know, but in an alphabet she could definitely swear she’d never seen. She hadn’t realised it was possible for her to become even more intrigued than she already was.

“Here,” Aerith said, ducking under the parasol and handing Tifa a cup of tea before she threw the book haphazardly out of sight under the flower stands and sat on her stool. Tifa knew enough about body language to know not to ask about the book.

“Thanks,” she said and took a sip of steaming tea. “Mmm; I don’t think I knew how much I wanted that until I had some.” She paused, frowning as her brain caught up again. “How did you heat it?” Aerith just laughed, her eyes beautifully bright as she smirked at Tifa’s bemusement. “Don’t tell me,” the fighter carried on as a possibly true but slightly ludicrous thought occurred to her. “Fire materia?”

“You got it,” the flower girl replied, grinning as she took a sip of her own tea.

“But how did- how-? Fire materia’s the only one I’ve ever been able to use well and I’ve never used it to heat water that quickly before-”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Aerith cackled at her indignant expression before cocking her head to one side, considering Tifa for a moment. “That’s interesting, actually,” she murmured. “Only Fire?”

“Yeah,” Tifa said, her curiosity growing. “Not that I’ve really tried much with the other ones but I epically failed the one time I tried to use Ice and have only vague results with Restore.” She narrowed her eyes a little as she stared back at the flower girl. “How ‘interesting’?”

“Well it can tell you things about a person, their natural affinities with materia.”

“What do you mean?” _Materia expert, apparently... I wonder what she’d think of joining Avalanche....?_

“Well, they’re only correlations but they’re often quite accurate. For example, the most direct correlation is in the fact that people whose strongest affinity is for Ice can often be a bit cold-hearted; it sounds clichéd I know, but it’s actually true.”

_Cloud uses Ice all the time..._

“Is that always true? How does it work?”

“Not always but usually. I guess it’s because, well at the most basic level, if materia connects you to spiritual forces within the Planet’s Lifestream, it requires a connection to your spirit. So if your spirit is colder, then it will work better with the colder spiritual forces. If that makes sense?” Tifa nodded but was still a little confused. “To be honest, I’m still working it out myself, but at the basics that’s it.”

“So what does an affinity to Fire mean?” the fighter asked and didn’t even try to keep the irrepressibly flirtatious grin from her face as she looked at the beautiful flower girl.

“Well, it depends how strong your affinity is to an extent,” Aerith said, meeting Tifa’s eye and grinning back. Tifa wondered if there was a tiny hint of blush on the other girl’s face but decided not to pursue the question yet. “It can mean you’re very passionate and fiercely protective, that you feel things strongly, whether that’s about ideals or about specific people or both.” The flower girl’s grin widened. “I might take a leap here and pose the theory that this could add to any explanation of why you were in a position to be escaping from a Shinra prison transport?”

“I’m going to make no comment on that,” Tifa said with a grin that gave all the confirmation necessary, unable to hold back quite how impressed she was by the mind before her. She felt a little coil of heat low in her belly as Aerith chuckled, her smile widening again before she took another sip of tea and then cocked her head again, peering at Tifa with a contemplative expression.

“It can also mean that you hold a lot of anger,” her voice was a little quieter, her eyes gentle as they sought out the fighter’s. Tifa couldn’t hold that gaze though; her vast abundance of anger was not something she wanted to talk to Aerith about right now.

“Well,” she said, dropping Aerith’s gaze and looking out to the desert for a moment before she sipped her tea again. “I imagine most people have their share of anger for something or other.”

“I suppose so,” the flower girl replied gently and Tifa found herself certain that Aerith knew she was holding back but didn’t want to press her. She felt a rush of warmth and gratitude and couldn’t help smiling at her.

“How about you? What can be determined from your materia affinities?”

“Ah, well,” Aerith said with a grin and sipped her tea. “I’m gonna stump you there because I don’t actually have much affinity one way or another; they all seem to like me.”

“Really?” Tifa laughed as she met the florist’s chuckling gaze. “Well I suppose I can’t really blame them.” This time there was definitely a blush, even as Aerith rolled her eyes, and Tifa couldn’t help thinking: _score!_

“Well if you think I’m so likable, maybe you’ll tell me why you did something so foolish as jumping from a moving vehicle? You could have been seriously injured, Tifa.” Tifa felt warmth squirming pleasantly through her gut at the blush that still remained on the florist’s face and at the genuine concern painted on her face.

“Well normally it wouldn’t have been even a little bit foolish by my standards,” she countered with a grin. “I’ve definitely jumped from faster moving vehicles than that and come out unscathed.” _Shinra high speed trains on the Sector 5 Reactor bombing mission, for example._ “But apparently prison isn’t good for keeping up technique, so I’m a little out of shape at the moment; hence the bad fall.”

“You don’t exactly look out of shape to me,” Aerith replied in a soft voice, meeting Tifa’s eyes with a smile for a quick moment before taking another sip of tea; _holy mother of...._ “Well I’m still going to say it was foolish; you’re going to have to take better care of yourself from now on if we’re going to be friends. I’m not fond of people I care about getting hurt.” Tifa did her best not to combust.

“I actually, uh, I was taking care of myself if you must know,” she said, hesitating a moment before deciding to screw circumspection. “They were taking me on a one way trip to Junon, so this really was the safer option.”

“Junon-?” Aerith gasped in shocked realisation; everybody knew what that meant. “Oh Tifa, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to-”

“Hey, no,” the fighter cut her off. “Don’t worry about it; I got out, I’m ok.” Green eyes looked at her for an intense moment but Tifa couldn’t hold the gaze and had to drop it. “I guess I’ve got to hope you really meant it when you said you weren’t friends with Shinra.”

“Oh trust me, sweetie,” the flower girl said reassuringly, laying a hand on Tifa’s bare knee for a sweetly burning moment, “the fact that Shinra want to kill you actually kind of makes me trust you more.”

“Thanks,” she replied quietly, meeting those green eyes again and somewhat unconvincingly telling herself that she still didn’t understand what people meant when they said they could get lost in someone’s eyes. _Nope, not getting lost, just deeply admiring the different shades of green and- are they little gold specks? Wow; they are quite possibly, probably even, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen- snap out of it, Lockhart!_ She quickly dropped that intense gaze, realising with some shock that she was blushing, and tried to distract herself with another sip of tea.

“It’s the truth,” Aerith assured her, a small smile on her face as she sat back and resumed her tea. “It doesn’t make me any less curious as to why they had you though.” She frowned suddenly before carrying on. “Of course, if you don’t want to talk about it then that’s fine but if you have exciting stories of all the trouble you’ve caused Shinra I would love to hear them.”

“Ha,” Tifa laughed at the various expressions that had shifted so quickly across Aerith’s face and at the decidedly mischievous grin it had landed on. “You really don’t like Shinra, do you?”

“Nope.” The way the flower girl popped the ‘p’ was incredibly cute.

“Well then, I’m going to trust that you don’t believe all the propaganda they produce when I tell you that I’m a member of Avalanche.”

“Avalanche?” the flower girl gasped again, her eyes widening and Tifa held her breath, uncertain as to whether or not she’d just made a massive mistake. “Really?” The fighter nodded. “Wow. Goodness me, I- Wow!”

“So, um, regretting helping me out yet?” the fighter asked, still unsure what this reaction meant.

“No!” the flower girl smiled and Tifa breathed again as she saw genuine warmth in it. “No, of course not, I’m just a bit surprised I guess. I mean, all I really know about Avalanche is what Shinra have said, you know, terrorists who kill people without thinking or caring, but given my inherent distrust of anything Shinra say and the fact that, well, I like you from what I’ve seen these last ten minutes, I’m inclined to believe that that’s not really true.” She paused, raising a questioning eyebrow at the fighter. “Is it?” Tifa tried not to focus on the fact that Aerith had said she liked her. _You are not twelve years old, Tifa; get a grip._

“No, it’s not,” she assured her with a smile that only widened as Aerith smiled back at her. “We are, well, I guess we’re an organisation that believes that Shinra are slowly but surely destroying the planet, draining it dry with their Mako reactors, and that this isn’t something we should allow. This planet is a gift and we should be caring for it, not abusing it. The problem is that Shinra have such a monopoly on power across the entire world that there’s very little that we can achieve through peaceful means so, yes, we have bombed several reactors.” Aerith frowned and looked about to interrupt but Tifa managed to carry on before she could. “BUT we’re pretty careful about when and where we set them. Trust me, I believe life is a gift just as much as I believe the planet itself is, so we’re not careless about the lives of people who work in the reactors, even though they work for Shinra. Each reactor has a shutdown window of two days once a year at different times during the year and we only set the bombs then. And we check the building as thoroughly as we can to make sure there’s no one there to get hurt.” She paused, having to drop that green gaze to compose herself a moment. “The closest we’ve come to being actually responsible for the deaths of civilians is with the Sector 3 reactor.” Aerith raised an eyebrow but again Tifa quickly carried on as she met her eye. “We didn’t plant that bomb; Shinra blew up their own reactor, full of their own employees, so they could say that we did it and label us as terrorists and murderers.”

“Gaia,” Aerith breathed, her eyes showing her horror. “And I'm not even that shocked if I think about it; of course Shinra would do something that diabolical.”

“I know,” Tifa murmured her agreement, her curiosity building as to what Shinra had done to Aerith. “The reason I got caught was because after we set the bomb in Sector 9’s reactor, we realised there were people in the building so I ran back to deactivate it but got caught on my way out. There’re only so many guards I can take by myself, unfortunately.”

“Oh Tifa,” Aerith hummed gently and the fighter couldn’t help feeling very gallant. “Well, you’ve got me convinced. What are you going to do now?”

“I have no idea,” Tifa replied and felt a slight wave of apprehension as she realised quite how true that was. “They know what I look like now and they photographed me for their shiny new facial recognition system so if I set foot in Midgar again they’ll find me.” _Stupid Shinra and their f****** Big Brother cameras._ “But I need to let the others know I escaped somehow. Lord, they might already have sent a team to Junon...”

“I would 100% go and tell them for you but those cameras are the reason I no longer live in Midgar either, I’m afraid.” Tifa did her best not to raise an eyebrow at this as Aerith almost pointedly didn’t meet her gaze and carried on. “But I can get you to a secure telephone line if you want.”

“Really?” Tifa’s eyebrow raise was unstoppable. “You serious?”

“Avalanche aren’t the only ones trying to skip out from under Shinra’s thumb, Tif,” the flower girl said with an almost sad little grin.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Ok then, well, shall we go then? It’s not as if I’m actually going to sell any flowers out here so we might as well just-”

“Not gonna lie,” Tifa laughed as she followed Aerith’s lead, standing and carrying her stool and her mug out towards the van, “I did think you’d have to be mad to try and sell flowers out here. What do you do really?”

“Oh, I do sell flowers,” Aerith replied with a grin as she loaded her stool and Tifa’s into the van.

“Out here?”

“Ok, not usually out here, usually in Kalm where I live.”

“Kalm? That’s just northeast of here, right? Assuming here is sort of nearish Midgar?”

“Yes and yes. I have a little stall at the farmers’ market there and I sell my flowers. It’s not much but it’s enough.” She paused, glancing quickly at Tifa before turning away to store the tea mugs. “I used to sell them in Midgar for a lot more because, you know, they’re pretty rare in the city, but obviously that’s not really an option anymore.”

“Ok,” Tifa’s brain hitched in some confusion, even as she let the Midgar comment slide, “so if you usually sell them in Kalm, why were you out here today? Don’t get me wrong, I am beyond grateful that you were because I may well have just died of dehydration or blood loss or something if you weren’t but-?”

“I, uh,” Aerith sighed and Tifa frowned, not liking to see the weight of discomfiture resting so heavily on her friend’s shoulders. “I just felt like a change.” She turned, smiling brightly at Tifa, but it wasn’t the same kind of brightness as before. It was hiding something; something that was making Aerith sad. _Now’s not the time for investigating, Tifa; she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, so let it drop._ “And how fortunate a change it was; you got your life saved and I made a friend and found out for sure that Avalanche aren’t the big bad guys Shinra make them out to be.”

“How fortunate indeed,” Tifa agreed, smiling. She thought for a moment that Aerith’s smile really did brighten and wondered if the flower girl’s sharp mind had caught the fact that she was letting the issue go intentionally.

They loaded up the van, drove down to gather the signs and then turned back and headed for Kalm, chatting as they went and covering a peculiar range of conversation topics from music and literature to ice cream flavours, life in the slums and the fact that both of them had lost their parents. Tifa found herself vastly enjoying Aerith’s company, finding her strangely easy to talk to about the harder subjects and finding the right level of agreement and disparity of opinion on other subjects. For example, Aerith thought that mint choc chip ice cream was the only true flavour, which was of course preposterous considering the fact that chocolate ice cream was the only way forward in Tifa’s well educated opinion; that debate ran for a surprising amount of time. But seriously, it was great to just talk to her; connecting intellectually with someone wasn’t something she got to do that much these days. Her Avalanche family was great but none of them were exactly going to engage her in debate about the pros and cons of that ludicrous play, _Loveless_ , that everybody raved about. She loved them and loved spending time with them but this was... different.

“Oh man,” she breathed out, opening the window, closing her eyes and just revelling in the feel of the wind on her face as they passed out of the Midgar Desert into the grasslands beyond. “It’s been so long since I’ve breathed air this clean, let alone since I’ve seen this much grass.”

“It is wonderful,” Aerith agreed and Tifa caught her grin as she glanced across. “I almost forgot how amazed I was the first time I came out here.”

“The first time?”

“I, uh, I grew up in Midgar which, I’m guessing by your accent you didn’t,” Tifa grinned and nodded. “But I only left the city for the first time about, gosh, two years ago now, so for the first twenty years of my life I didn’t even know this much grass existed. It was kind of mind blowing.”

“You never left the city?” Tifa was slightly flabbergasted.

“Sadly no,” the flower girl replied but she didn’t look at Tifa, just kept her eyes on the road, a tight little smile on her face.

“Look, I’m not gonna ask any questions cos I kind of get you don’t really want me to, but I’m gonna take a wild leap and blame Shinra.”

“Ha!” Aerith laughed loud and bright and Tifa couldn’t hold back a grin as she was met by beautiful eyes and a beautiful smile. “Your wild leap is pretty accurate.”

“Of course it is,” Tifa preened in faux-arrogance, “I have an incredibly sharp and astute mind, you know.” Tifa thought she could listen to Aerith laugh all day. She watched the other girl as they drove on, chatting and laughing and commiserating and encouraging one another all the way to Kalm and Tifa couldn’t help being aware of the fact that her chest felt incredibly tight, as if full of too much of this strange and exciting new feeling that Aerith seemed to be inducing in her at an almost alarming rate. And everything the flower girl did, every minute detail, it all only added up to make it stronger. The way she talked, the things she said, the way she laughed, the things she laughed at, the way she’d chew her lip as she considered Tifa’s arguments in their more intellectual debates, the way she kept pushing one stray bit of hair back behind her ear... all of it was beautiful to an extent that was both bewildering and bewitching.

“So this is Kalm?” she asked as they approached the little town, the sun having almost set on the far west horizon.

“This is Kalm,” Aerith confirmed, “and this,” she carried on as they approached a tiny bungalow on the very outskirts, “is my home.” She pulled up slowly outside the sweet little building and Tifa couldn’t help thinking that the place suited Aerith to the ground. There was a thatched roof, hanging flower baskets, a pristine little lawn; perfect. She winced at the thought that her friend had for some reason been forced to spend the first twenty years of her life cooped up in the slums of Midgar, the city rotting with pollution and corruption and all the things that she would keep as far from her sweet and beautiful friend as she could. “Tifa? What’s wrong?” The fighter cursed herself as she realised she’d let her thoughts show on her face.

“Nothing, I just-” she sighed, entirely uncertain how to express this without sounding 100% weird. “I just hate the thought that you had to live in Midgar when this is so absolutely the antithesis of everything in the city. I just- I just flipping hate Shinra-”

“Sweetie-”

“No I mean it,” Tifa insisted, wanting to finish now she’d started. “And- and I meant what I said before. Look, I’m not going to ask you questions but, I don’t know, if you want to talk about... stuff, then that’s cool. In a non-pressurey, totally fine if you don’t want to kind of way-” she began to wish she’d let Aerith interrupt her. _Seriously, Lockhart; what is wrong with you!?_

“Hey,” Aerith stopped her gently, reaching across and almost stopping Tifa’s heart as she gently pushed some hair back from the fighter’s face and cupped her jaw. “See: Fire materia affinities. Passionate and fiercely protective, feels things strongly.” Her voice and her smile were so enigmatic Tifa wasn’t entirely sure what was happening but she could not have moved if her life depended on it. And then Aerith pulled her into a hug; it was very innocent but Tifa felt on fire and more alive than she ever had in her life. Holding the beautiful flower girl close was an experience she was sure already that she would never tire of. “Thanks, Tifa,” Aerith murmured by her ear and it took the fighter a minute to work out that she was referring to her offer to talk or not talk as she wished.

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome,” she replied. _Did you just stutter? Tifa Lockhart, what has happened to you? Wha-_

“And I, um, maybe I’ll take you up on that at some point,” the flower girl said as she pulled back with a smile that spoke volumes of vulnerability and Tifa’s internal incredulity was swept away in fierce determination to earn that trust and to protect whatever vulnerability hid behind Aerith’s secrets. She just about managed to stop herself from saying so and simply smiled at the other girl, feeling her heart pound and her blood warm as Aerith’s smile strengthened. “But right now, can you help me empty the van?”

“Of course.”

They got everything inside, some flowers going in the greenhouse, some in the garden, and the stall fitting back inside the van for safe keeping; before long they’d finished and went inside. As they entered the little hallway, Tifa couldn’t help but notice the neat little line of shoes by the door: wellies, hiking boots, sandals, high tops, a pair of high heels that made Tifa’s mind conjure all sorts of images... She did her best to shake such images from her mind and followed Aerith through into the room to the left, a sort of kitchen/lounge space and found herself admiring the sparse but tasteful decor.

“Right, um, do you want to use that phone line?” Aerith said as she turned back to her.

“Oh, yes please, that would be great.”

Aerith smiled, leading her to a rather ancient looking phone in the corner of the room. She picked up a little black clip next to it, flipped a switch and attached it to the bottom of the telephone cord.

“There,” she said, handing the phone to Tifa. “It can’t be traced now.”

“Really? How does it work?” Tifa couldn’t help being fascinated by the tiny little clip that achieved so much; she had little doubt that Jessie would be fascinated too by a mechanism that small. Their secure line had masses of hardware wrapped around and through it to keep it secure.

“Like I know?” Aerith laughed, and Tifa realised it had been a kind of dumb question. “I bought it, not made it.” Not everyone worked on a team with someone like Jessie who would know how something like this would function, or would at least find out.

“Of course,” she sniggered at herself. “Stupid question.”

“Very few questions are stupid questions, sweetie; in fairness, how were you to know I’m not secretly a world class mechanic?”

Tifa smirked but managed not to say that not many world class mechanics had day jobs as florists. If Aerith wanted to defend her stupidity, Tifa wasn’t going to stop her.

“Ok,” the flower girl continued, having matched Tifa’s smirk with one of her own, “well I’m going to make a start on dinner while you make your call. Is there anything you don’t eat?”

“No, I’m not fussy,” she replied but called out again as Aerith turned away, making her come back, “and Aerith: thank you. Really. I don’t know what would have happened today if you hadn’t-”

“Don’t mention it, sweetie,” the flower girl shushed her with a bright smile. “It’s my pleasure.” Her smile widened and she winked, causing butterflies to erupt in Tifa’s stomach to an almost dizzying degree before the flower girl spun on her heel again and pottered over to the kitchen area of the room.

_Deep breaths, Lockhart; deep breaths._

Having composed herself, she perched on the edge of the chair next to the telephone and picked it up, dialling that anciently familiar number to the secure line in the basement of _Tifa’s Seventh Heaven_ ; _though I suppose it’s hardly ‘Tifa’s’ anymore_ , she thought bitterly as the number rang. It kept on ringing and Tifa frowned, surprised that no-one was there. _They’re probably just all out on missions or they’re at the bar and the music’s too loud... or something._

It rang all the way to voicemail and Tifa had the strange experience of listening to herself speak as she had been the one to record it; it was at her bar, after all.

“Hi guys, it’s Tifa. Just calling to let you know that I got out, not lawfully of course; I just broke out in transit. I’m not in Midgar and I can’t come back right now because of those facial recognition cameras but I wanted to let you know that I’m alright and I’m staying with, um, with a friend tonight so I’m ok. I’ll try calling again tomorrow, don’t worry this is a secure line, so just make sure someone’s around to fill me in on what’s happening.” She paused, taking a deep breath and refusing to let emotion take over her voice. “Tell Marlene I love her and I miss her and that I’m ok and we’ll be playing together again before she knows it. We’ll make it work somehow, I promise. Keep the faith, guys; speak tomorrow.”

She hung up. It was dangerous, allowing herself to think of Marlene. She’d had to marshal herself very carefully on the subject while she’d been imprisoned or she would have gone mad. She wasn’t her daughter but she might as well have been for the place the little girl had in her heart.

“You ok, sweetie?” Aerith asked gently as Tifa approached the kitchen area.

“Yeah,” she smiled, running her hands through her hair and refusing to feel shaky. “Yeah, I just- It went to voicemail, so I said I’d call tomorrow, I just-”

“You’re worried about them?” the flower girl set down her knife and the carrot she was chopping, turning to give Tifa her full attention.

“I guess, I just-” she sighed, not knowing why she wasn’t just saying it straight. “I got caught over three months ago now and I have no idea what’s happened in that time. And then there’s Marlene.”

“Marlene?” Tifa had to stifle a little grin as she just about detected the slight edge of tension that Aerith was clearly trying to suppress as she spoke the name. _Are we jealous? Oh Aerith..._

“Yeah, Marlene, she’s,” Tifa did her best not to enjoy watching Aerith squirm a little and just get to the point; it was serious after all. “She’s kind of like my unofficially adoptive daughter.” The long breath that Aerith slowly and carefully let out told Tifa all she needed to know about the relief that the flower girl was feeling at the word ‘daughter’. “I mean, she’s not really, she just feels like it, you know?” She smiled as the flower girl nodded her understanding. “Her biological parents were both killed, you guessed it, by Shinra. They were Barret’s best friends so he adopted her. Barret’s the guy who set up Avalanche,” she clarified as she realised Aerith would have no idea who he was; “he’s kind of my unofficial adoptive big brother, I suppose,” she grinned at the idea.

“A family of friends, then?” Aerith asked with an almost wistful smile.

“Yeah,” the fighter agreed, doing her best not to wonder about Aerith’s family; that had been one of the topics the other girl had been trying to avoid. “That’s a pretty good way of describing it. Which is good really, because I quite often want to kill various members of the team but they’re family so I don’t.” She grinned, pleased to see a genuine smile rush back onto her friend’s face. “I, uh, I don’t suppose I could have a quick shower and possibly borrow some clothes? Prison facilities aren’t really that great-”

“Of course, sweetie,” Aerith cut her off, leading the way back to the front of the cottage. “It’s just through here; use whatever you like.” Tifa followed her into the room that took up the other side of the house, trying not to notice the very comfy looking double bed, failing not to think about Aerith in it, and went through to the en suite bathroom. “Here are some fresh towels,” the flower girl said, handing her a little bundle, “and what kind of clothes do you want? You’re a bit taller than me, but I’ve got some joggers that might work and a sweater? We can get you something that actually fits from town tomorrow if you like-”

“Aerith, chill,” Tifa had to stop her as the florist began searching through her cupboards, throwing out numerous options that she apparently deemed unfit. “Anything’s fine, really. You’ve already seen me in ripped and bloody prison clothes; I can’t imagine that seeing me in something that’s just a little small will make you think too much less of me.” She smiled as the florist stopped and turned to her, perhaps a little embarrassed. “Besides,” she carried on, unable to stop herself or to stop the flirtatious grin that slipped out as she said, “you know I can make anything look good.”

Aerith’s eyes shot up, meeting her gaze and holding it for a moment before she very slowly and deliberately ran her eyes down Tifa’s body and back up again, a little wickedly ‘innocent’ smile growing on her face as she drew a long and measured breath, releasing it as she met Tifa’s gaze again. The fighter realised her palms were suddenly very sweaty and she wasn’t breathing and she had to swallow very hard as those incredible green eyes met hers. Heat was tumbling through her gut, spiralling almost out of control as the flower girl raised an eyebrow and chewed contemplatively on her lower lip.

“I imagine you can,” she said very softly before allowing her grin to widen that bit more and turning from the room. “I’ll be in the kitchen, so come find me when you’re done,” she called airily over her shoulder as she went and Tifa suddenly knew without a shadow of a doubt that Aerith had her well and truly wrapped around her little finger.

She tried to shower quickly, but it had been a very long time since she’d had use of even semi-decent facilities so the pounding stream of steaming water was hard to resist. But eventually she managed it, revelling in the fact that she was clean and that her _hair_ was clean. And that she was about to be wearing some of Aerith’s clothes.

“Hey,” she called as she padded back into the kitchen, not wanting to startle her host.

“Hey,” Aerith replied, glancing around to meet Tifa’s gaze and then turning fully, abandoning the stew she was stirring. “Well,” she murmured, giving Tifa a much quicker and possibly much less intentional once over. “Well...um, well. Uh, feel good to be clean?” Tifa realised that she wasn’t completely powerless as a blush rose up the flower girl’s neck to sit prettily on her cheeks; this sweater did seem to be a little taught across her bust, she had to admit.

“Yup,” she grinned, cocking her head as she met that green gaze and Aerith had to grin back, rolling her eyes and turning back to the stew. “Seriously though,” the fighter carried on, walking forward to lean against the counter just along from Aerith, making herself keep a little distance for now; playing with fire is fun, but not when there’s also actual fire happening on the stove too. “I feel so much better; thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Aerith said, meeting her eye with a gentle smile that Tifa could only return.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked and allowed Aerith to direct her to some bread that needed slicing.

It felt surreally domestic, sitting at a table, eating stew and sipping red wine as they chatted, and Tifa wondered if this was what life was like for normal people. She couldn’t deny the appeal, although of course a large, large proportion of that appeal was rooted in the fact that she was sharing this domesticity with Aerith...

“Well that was delicious,” Tifa said, sitting back on her chair but feeling a little uncomfortably shamefaced that she hadn’t managed to finish her meal. “Really, Aerith; I just, I think my appetite-”

“Tifa, sweetie, it’s ok,” the florist cut her off as she cleared the table. “If I’d thought about it, I probably would’ve realised that Shinra haven’t exactly been keeping you on a diet of rich stews for the last three months; I’m sorry.”

“Don’t, Aerith,” Tifa cut her off and followed her into the kitchen area. “That rich stew was wonderful and more or less exactly the kind of thing I’ve been craving for the last three months so please don’t apologise.”

The florist let out a heavy breath, dumping their dishes in the sink and turning around to look at Tifa, a small hint of a frown still on her face and she dropped her gaze.

“Aerith, what’s wrong?” Tifa couldn’t help stepping a little closer as she saw her friend was clearly struggling with something beyond the obvious. The flower girl glanced up, her eyes locking into Tifa’s before dropping again but it gave Tifa enough time to see the water that was shining in them. “Aerith-?”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, turning away and drawing a deep breath, starting the water running in the sink. “I just,” she paused, beginning to scrub at their dishes for a moment before she stopped and leaned against the counter. “I spent some time being held prisoner by Shinra too, so I know what it’s like. I know you’re making lighter of three months in solitary than you should and I know I should’ve known-”

“Aerith, stop,” she cut her off, reaching past her to shut off the water and tugging at her shoulder gently but firmly so the flower girl would look at her again. She hadn’t intended to get so close, but now she was here she couldn’t stop herself from reaching up and pushing one of those stray locks of auburn hair back from her friend’s beautiful face, heat rocketing through her as Aerith’s eyes fluttered shut at her touch. “Aerith look at me.” Green eyes opened obediently and Tifa did her best to stay focused and not get distracted by their beauty. “I’m ok; I escaped and got rescued by a beautiful flower girl who was insane enough to be selling flowers in the middle of the Midgar Desert. You escaped and have this beautiful home out here in the country, with the ability to make rich stews to perfection. We’re free and, who knows, maybe we’ll get our chance to rain some holy hell back on the Shinra and make them pay for whatever it is they did to you-”

And then Aerith was kissing her.

Tifa took half a split second to realise what was happening and then her body ran out of patience with her brain and got on with what it had been wanting to do more or less from the first moment she laid eyes on the beautiful florist. She wrapped her arms firmly around Aerith’s waist, pulling her closer as the flower girl’s still damp hands sunk into her hair, gripping her close. Time distorted for a moment that stretched and retracted beyond Tifa’s ability to comprehend it until Aerith pulled back, looking up into her eyes as if to question whether this was ok. Tifa did not need to think about the answer to that and pulled Aerith back into the kiss, quickly deepening it as Aerith wrapped her arms around the fighter’s neck.

She only realised a few minutes later that Aerith had been walking her backwards when she felt the edge of the dinner table bump against her backside, but her brain suddenly got much quicker on the uptake when it realised what opportunity this presented. She quickly spun them around so Aerith was against the table and then the fighter reached down, making the most of every bit of friction and every vibrating moan as she slid her hands down from the flower girl’s waist, over her fantastically firm, soft ass, to grip her thighs, lifting her just enough to set her down on the table, pushing forward as Aerith gripped her hips with those sweet thighs.

The flower girl’s red jacket was soon discarded and Tifa moved quickly down her throat, planting soft kisses until she reached the thumping pulse point which she sucked at hard, causing Aerith to squirm deliciously as she moaned. Tifa’s hands felt like they were on fire and only Aerith’s skin could quench them so she wasted little time before she was popping open the buttons of the florist’s pink dress, laying bare the treasure trove of pale skin below. She followed her hands down, placing kisses against every newly revealed area and taking great delight in the lacy black matching bra and panties she discovered.

“Tifa,” the flower girl breathed her name with such need and the fighter felt hands tugging her back up until her lips were locked with Aerith’s again and her hands began their exploration, finding all the places they could that would make Aerith gasp. Aerith’s hands made their own journey and were soon tugging at the slightly too tight sweatshirt that Tifa had borrowed. The flower girl pulled back from the kiss, sucking down oxygen as she waged war on the item of clothing blocking her way. “This needs to come off now, Tifa,” she practically growled and the fighter nearly exploded right then and there, but managed to hold it together enough to disengage her busy hands and remove the offending item, well aware that Aerith was about to get a shock because she had decided against reusing her prison bra earlier. “Tifa-!”

Aerith’s eyes went almost comically wide, her pupils widening an almost impossible amount and Tifa had to admit a slight moment of relief that the large scar in the dead centre of her chest did not seem to be what Aerith was focused on. They were soon drawn back together, apparently unable to keep their hands from exploring the new terrain, Tifa making her own demands and Aerith’s black lacy bra quickly finding its way to floor.

But just before Tifa’s hands could make their way to their final destination, Aerith found enough breath to whisper in her ear.

“Tifa, no; wait.” The fighter made herself pull back enough to meet the flower girl’s eye, trying not to let her own intense desperation show. “The first time we do this is going to be in a bed, ok?” Tifa had never felt so relieved. She dived back in, needing Aerith to be kissing her again, needing her tongue in her mouth and the flower girl’s hands in her hair as she reached for her thighs again, easily lifting the lithe florist whose legs clamped firmly around her waist as the kiss only deepened and Tifa carried her carefully through the house to the bedroom. She leaned down, allowing Aerith’s petite weight to rest on the mattress but unable to pull herself back and very happy to find Aerith’s legs still holding her there firmly in place as she pressed them down into the soft surface.

Tifa’s hands wondered down Aerith’s body again, revelling in all that they discovered and almost igniting as they reached the thin lacy material of the flower girl’s panties. She hooked her thumbs into them and began to tug down. The bolts of heat that shot through her when she realised quite how damp the panties were nearly made her lose her mind completely.

“Lift, baby,” she commanded; “these are coming off now.” Tifa felt her stomach muscles clench as Aerith lifted her hips and she was able to fully remove the last item of clothing left on the flower girl’s body. She stood back at the end of the bed and couldn’t help but just stare for a moment, slack jawed and wide eyed.

“Those too,” Aerith commanded back, looking sternly at the joggers still hanging from Tifa’s hips and the fighter readily obeyed, anticipation rising with almost unbearable speed as she watched Aerith scoot back up the bed until she lay propped up on the mountain of pillows at the other end, her eyes hungrily devouring Tifa with the exact same intensity. “Come.” The flower girl held out a hand, her voice at once gentle and authoritative, and Tifa went willingly to take it, allowing the flower girl to draw her back down into her embrace.

***

It was the sunlight making its gentle way through the curtains that woke Tifa the next morning; her body had forgotten how to sleep through that after three months in a windowless room. As it found its way back to cogency, her mind rejoiced in the fact that she didn’t have the familiar ache that came from sleeping on a stone floor. It then rejoiced as it discovered aches in some fantastic places that had not felt that kind of ache in a very long time, and had possibly never ached quite like that before.

She soon found enough wakefulness to delight in the fact that the warmth resting along her body was actually Aerith, who was lying snuggled into her side, an arm and a leg wrapped almost possessively across the fighter’s body and her face tucked into Tifa’s neck. Tifa’s smile was as wide as it had ever been in her life, possibly wider and she pressed a soft kiss to the flower girl’s temple, delighting further in the way Aerith’s sleeping body responded, snuggling a little tighter, holding her a little closer. She had one arm wrapped around underneath Aerith’s shoulders but she found she still had enough freedom of movement to run her hand through the glorious auburn locks that the flower girl had let out from her braid the night before. Her other hand found occupation in trailing up and down the soft skin of Aerith’s forearm where it lay across her stomach, making a study of those long and graceful fingers, noting a few little scars, reminiscing on their talents...

The fighter was struck by a strange realisation that she was experiencing that sought after ‘morning after glow’. She’d obviously had partners before, there had been a stage in her life where she’d had more or less a new partner every night, but her growing responsibilities had made that die down a little. This, however... this she had not experienced.

And then she realised that that was kind of scary. That meant that Aerith really was special; Tifa realised she would not want to go back to a life that didn’t include the flower girl.

A glorious mental image flashed through her mind of Aerith playing in a field of flowers with Marlene while she and Barret watched on, unloading an enormous picnic basket; the four of them making a peculiar little happy family together in a world that Shinra no longer ruled.

And then she stopped herself, trying to rein in her hopes and imaginations with a sharp reminder that she had not been born with that kind of luck. It didn’t take much scouring through the history of Tifa Lockhart to see that she was not destined for long life and love.

“Hey,” a small murmur came from Aerith at her shoulder and Tifa realised she must have tensed up and woken her.

“Hey, babe,” she replied, trying to shift the darker thoughts and finding it much easier as she met the sleepy green eyes that were looking up at her. _No one could possibly think dark thoughts when confronted with a smile like that._ She leaned down, pressing a kiss to soft, pink lips and couldn’t help groaning her appreciation as Aerith pushed up against her until she was flat on her back, the flower girl straddling her in all her naked glory.

It was several hours later by the time they were showered and dressed and eating breakfast.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Aerith asked gently as she sat back down at the table, passing Tifa her cup of tea and taking a sip of her own. “Honey?” she cocked her head and Tifa couldn’t help feeling comforted as the flower girl brought a hand up, her fingers grazing gently against her skin as she pushed some hair back behind her ear and cupped her jaw. _How does a touch so innocent feel so good?_

“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured the flower girl, taking the hand at her face and bringing it to rest, tangled together with hers on the table. “I just- I- I really ought to phone the guys again this morning and, well, I guess I’m just worried. Anything could have happened.”

“Sweetie,” the flower girl said, squeezing her hand gently, “there’s no point stressing about it until you know. Why don’t you call them now? Get it done.” Tifa nodded, finding a few extra drops of courage as Aerith smiled and lifted their joined hands to her lips, kissing her knuckles gently.

Aerith set up the phone for her again as Tifa perched nervously on the chair next to it and then the flower girl smiled encouragingly and moved off to give her some space. Tifa quickly realised that space wasn’t actually what she wanted right then, uncharacteristic as that sounded.

“Aerith,” she found enough voice to call out and the flower girl turned back questioningly. Those green eyes were so deep, so full of... something too beautiful to be put in words and Tifa only knew that she didn’t want her to go. “Can you- would you- stay?”

“Of course, sweetie,” she replied, a softly aching smile gracing her features as she walked back to Tifa, taking her outstretched hand and allowing the fighter to tug her gently to sit on her lap. Tifa’s tension was high; the fact that no one had picked up her call yesterday had been really quite worrying. There was always someone near the phone in case they got a tip off about something important... But having Aerith there, having her so close, having one of her arms resting around Tifa’s shoulders and her hand playing gently in her hair, being able to hold onto the flower girl’s slim waist, having her subtly sweet scent around her... these things provided more comfort than anything else Tifa could think of. Not to mention the way Aerith’s free hand came up to caress gently along her jaw till she could lift the fighter’s chin and she pressed a soft but lingering kiss to her lips, pulling back only enough to murmur, “I’m here,” before kissing her again.

“Thank you,” Tifa whispered as she pulled back and caught that gentle smile again, revelling in the feel of Aerith’s hands as they ran soothingly through her hair. The fighter smiled back, taking a deep breath and picking up the phone.

She dialled the number, refusing to let her hands shake, and lifted the receiver to her ear.

It rang.

It rang, and rang and Tifa grew tenser by the second, possibly only holding it together because Aerith leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

“Tifa?!”

“Jessie!?” Tifa’s relief was almost beyond description as she heard her friend’s voice pick up at the other end of the line. “Jessie! Are you guys ok? What’s the sitch-”

“Tifa, thank god you’re ok! Sorry we missed you yesterday, kind of my fault actually – the guys had to rescue me and we literally just got back this morning. You know I want to know how you are and how you escaped and everything but we have an absolute crisis right now. It’s all out war, Tif.”

“God, Jessie, what’s happened?”

“I was on a mission yesterday to get some intel from Don Corneo-”

“You mean that lech in Sector 6!?”

“’Fraid so,” the engineer replied and Tifa almost thought she heard a snigger. “I think it might’ve gone better if you were running the gig and not me, but hey; the guys showed up and we got what we needed.” Jessie’s voice became deathly serious again. “Tif, they’ve found us somehow; they’re going to drop the plate on Sector 7.”

Tifa’s mind froze, unable to compute it.

“D-drop the plate- Are you f****** serious?” Tifa barely had enough brain space free to process the fact that Aerith was stroking through her hair again, worry stark on her face even as she pressed another kiss to Tifa’s temple, lending the fighter just that tiny bit of extra calm that she needed.

“And they’re going to blame us for it.”

“Of course they are,” Tifa almost laughed, unable to find ways to process or express the bewildered fury bubbling inside her. “How did they find us?”

“We don’t know, we’re just trying to evacuate people but it’s not going well; people don’t believe that Shinra would do something like this.”

“Shit,” the fighter swore, turning her face into Aerith’s neck for a moment, needing that comfort, that closeness before she found her resolve and turned back to the phone. “Ok, I’m coming back-”

“Tifa, no-!” Jessie cut her off in the same instant that Tifa heard Aerith take in a sharp breath.

“I’m serious, Jess; it’s all hands on deck and if they know where we are anyway I don’t think those stupid cameras will make much difference.”

“Tif-”

“You’re not going argue me out of this, Jessie, and you know it. Look, just get that genius brain of yours together with Barret’s and come up with way to stop them. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I think we’re going to have to leave Midgar after this though; I won’t have Marlene in that city any more, I just won’t.”

“Ok, Tif, well there I agree and think Barret’s said something similar too.”

“Good, then I will see you later today.”

“Tifa-”

“Jessie, there’s no time and there’s no point arguing. Just make sure you tell Marlene I love her-”

“Of course-”

“-and I’ll see you soon. Keep the faith, Jess.”

“Keep it strong,” the engineer replied with a resigned sigh and the line went dead.

The silence in the room was deafening for an instant until Tifa took a deep breath and looked up. Aerith was staring straight ahead and Tifa could feel the tension rifling through the flower girl’s body; she watched as water welled up in those beautiful green eyes and her heart wrenched.

“I’m coming too.”

And those words were almost enough to make her heart stop.

“Aerith! No-”

“Tifa, I’m at least as stubborn as you are and you are not going to dissuade me so, as you said to Jessie, don’t waste time trying.”

Tifa gaped at the flower girl, only just regaining her composure as Aerith took a deep breath and turned towards her, almost angrily dashing away the tear that dared to fall before she drew Tifa close for a deep kiss.

“Look,” the flower girl said a little breathlessly as she pulled back, leaning her forehead against Tifa’s; “I know we haven’t known each other long enough for me to have the right to even ask you not to go so I’m not going to, but if that’s true then you also can’t tell me not to go-”

“Aerith that’s totally different-”

“It’s not, Tifa; it’s really not.” She took another deep breath and carried on. “I may not be an experienced combat fighter but, as you have already seen, I know my way around enough materia to be not only able to defend myself but pretty damn useful in a fight.”

“Aerith-” Tifa tried to interrupt, even though she couldn’t find a flaw in the logic.

“And that’s not all, Tifa,” the flower girl cut her off. “My adoptive mother is still in Midgar; we thought Shinra might be less likely to look for me outside Midgar if she was still there so she stayed when I left, but if I hear you correctly – they’re dropping areas of the plate on the slums now? I don’t want her there any more than you want your family there.”

“Tell me where she lives,” Tifa begged, desperate to stop this precious new person in her life throwing herself into harm’s way if she possibly could. “Tell me where she lives and I’ll get her out for you; I’ll bring her back here and we can-”

“Oh Tifa!” the flower girl cut her off again, exasperation rising in her voice as she thrust her hands into the fighter’s hair again, gripping her firmly and pulling her into another deep kiss. “Tifa, it’s just not that simple, ok? I have to go with you, ok, I just know it.”

“You just know it?” Tifa repeated in sceptical incredulity, unable to believe Aerith wanted to so needlessly endanger her life by going back to the place where she would be hunted out because of what was clearly an emotion-driven feeling. “Aerith that’s insane-”

“It’s not Tifa, if you’d just listen to me; I promise you that it’s not. Please. Please don’t think I’m a freak.” Tears began streaming down Aerith’s face, her voice cracking under the pressure, and the fighter stopped dead.

“Aerith,” she murmured, pulling the flower girl close and kissing her, a fierce war waging between tenderness and passion. “Aerith, I would never think that-”

“People do,” Aerith cut her off, dashing away her tears almost angrily; “people have.”

“I’m not people,” Tifa said, firmly, gently catching Aerith’s hand and taking over the job of wiping away her tears, slightly relieved to see a tiny smile form in response to her words. She smiled back and Aerith took a deep breath, looking away for a moment before releasing her breath shakily and meeting Tifa’s eye again.

“When I say ‘I know I have to go with you’, I mean I actually know it. This isn’t just about getting caught up in the emotion of the moment,” she paused, rolling her eyes in frustration, “although my apparently pathetic ability to keep control of my emotions probably isn’t helping to convince you of that.”

“Hey,” Tifa interrupted, disliking the way Aerith was becoming increasingly acerbic with herself. “There’s nothing pathetic about any of this.” Aerith nodded, closing her eyes and breathing deeply for a moment before she looked at Tifa.

“But I am serious about this, Tifa; I- I’m- I have a different connection to the Planet than most people do. I don’t know how good your theology is-”

“Not very-”

“-well, that could make-” She stopped herself, closing her eyes and breathing deep again. Tifa tried to soothe the evidently very agitated flower girl, holding her close and trying not to allow herself to feel agitated too. “You remember what I said about the spiritual forces you connect with when you use materia?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Ok, good, well I have, uh, I guess a more direct link to those forces.” She stopped, her eyes searching out Tifa’s, fear written all over her face and Tifa’s heart clenched in anger at whoever in Aerith’s past had reacted badly to whatever secret she was about to tell her. “I can hear them; they, they sometimes speak to me.”

“So I sometimes know things I wouldn’t otherwise. I don’t always know everything that it would help to know but I do know just enough.” Tifa’s eyes were wide, but she tried not to look too overawed, desperate not to upset the flower girl any further. Aerith seemed to relax a tiny amount and she carried on. “Like yesterday, I was out in the desert because I knew that something important was going to happen out there; I didn’t know what, I didn’t know I was going to meet you, that I was going to...” she trailed off, her eyes glancing from Tifa’s eyes to her lips and back again and Tifa’s heart almost burst. She pulled the flower girl close again, needing the closeness, needing to show Aerith that what she had just told her only made her more amazing in her eyes, that the word ‘freak’ was so far removed from what she was thinking. She gently pushed her tongue into Aerith’s mouth and the flower girl clung to her, a tiny whimper coming from her throat as Tifa brought a hand up to cup her jaw, holding her close, needing her.

“You are amazing,” she whispered hotly against Aerith’s ear as she held her close and couldn’t stop herself pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just by the lobe, making the flower girl writhe a little as she clutched at Tifa’s arms. “You are amazing, and anyone who tells you otherwise or told you otherwise had better pray to every god under the sun that they never meet me. Do you hear?” She pulled back to meet Aerith’s gaze, breathing deeply and trying to keep the anger at bay.

“Passionate and fiercely protective,” Aerith murmured, pushing some hair behind Tifa’s ear with a tiny smile.

“That’s me,” Tifa smiled back, a little caught off guard. Nerves erupted in her own stomach as she remembered the next bit but decided that there was little point holding back now. “Feels things strongly. I can definitely say right now that that’s me too.” It wasn’t ‘the three words’ that lovers tended to seek, but judging by the look on Aerith’s face she knew the flower girl had understood that that was what they meant, even if it was way too early to even think about the word ‘love’. Aerith leaned down, pressing her lips to Tifa’s so softly, so tenderly; Tifa didn’t think she’d ever been kissed like that before and she barely knew what to do with herself.

“So, you’ll believe me when I say I know I have to go with you to Midgar?” Aerith said as she pulled back a few minutes later. Tifa closed her eyes, not wanting Aerith anywhere near the godforsaken city but not wanting to doubt her.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Tifa.” She smiled, dropping another soft but quick kiss on Tifa’s lips. “I know it. But it will be ok, sweetie; I don’t know how, and I don’t know how many ups and downs will happen on the way, but I know it will be ok.”

“Ok,” the fighter made herself say it, having to close her eyes and focus on the feel of Aerith’s hand tangling with hers as she took a deep breath and did all she could to squash the fear. “Ok.”

The smile and the kisses Aerith rained down on her were almost enough to make her forget the fear for a few moments there.

“Right,” she said, drawing a deep breath as Aerith pulled back. “We should go into town, because I can’t fight Shinra in your pyjamas and I might see if we can ‘borrow’ a motorbike from someone.”

“Tifa!” Aerith cried in outrage, although the fighter could see the laughter in her eyes. “What’s wrong with my van?”

“Baby, if we want to get there at any semi-decent speed, your van is not going to cut it, I’m sorry but-”

“Fine, whatever,” Aerith said, mock huffily, sticking her nose in the air. “But you better get me a cute helmet.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible for anything to look ‘not cute’ when you’re wearing it, babe, so I shouldn’t worry.”

The way Aerith narrowed her eyes as Tifa looked up innocently at her did nothing to change the fighter’s opinion.

“Let’s go then,” she said, rising to her feet and pulling Tifa up beside her. “I’ve got my eye on you, Lockhart.”

“That’s exactly where it should be, Gainsborough,” Tifa retorted as she followed Aerith back through the house, trying not to think about the fact that she was about to go out in public in what was essentially a set of pyjamas.

“Like anyone’s going to give you any competition for my affection, sweetie,” the flower girl said, snuffing her amused disbelief that Tifa could even suggest it, spinning around in the doorway and drawing Tifa’s arms close around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips. “Come on, let’s go.”

Within the hour they were on the road to Midgar, Tifa kitted out with some new fighting gloves, a white vest and a black skirt: minimal restriction and, well, Aerith seemed to approve.

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” she checked back as she turned the key in the ignition on their borrowed motorbike.

“I am, sweetie,” Aerith tightened her grip around Tifa’s waist. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know in the end it’ll be ok. We’ll be ok.”

“Ok, then. Let’s go.”

 

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 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! You know you want to leave a review now though... :)


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